Sanctification
by blueowls
Summary: Oneshot. Fluff. Book based. Glinda x Elphaba. //Glinda gave up attempting to fool herself.//


**Author Note:** After Ama Clutch's funeral, at the Peach and Kidneys.

**Disclaimer:** Finally writing again. Kinda rusty.

**Sanctification**

Boq and Crope rose with subdued, gentlemanly nods to the two, and Glinda and Elphaba slid onto the warm, cushioned seat of the booth between Avaric and Shenshen to the left and Boq and Crope to the right. Avaric refused to concede any space, and so Glinda and Elphaba were forced closer together to make room for all, thigh touching thigh under the table and the rough fabric of Elphaba's gown briefly rubbing up against Glinda's bare arms as the other girl jostled her, making room for Crope and Boq. The lingering desire, previously stoked to an embarrassing height in Elphaba's arms but now nearly gone, flared up again, making Glinda feel distinctly uncomfortable, and she shifted so that her body made the least possible contact with Elphaba in such closer quarters, who thankfully crossed her legs and leaned forward, allowing for slightly more room between them both. Settling back without the usual ruffling and flouncing of skirts, Glinda stared dubiously at a tankard of cloudy ale that was slid in front of her, while the others nursed their beverages and squabbled over where the best—if any—saffron cream could be found, to be consumed in a belated, hedonistic toast to Ama Clutch.

Elphaba uncrossed her legs as she sipped sparingly at her own tankard, pressing against Glinda in the absence of extra space. There was really no way to twist away from Elphaba unless Glinda wanted Avaric's boots to touch her new dress (straight from the best seamstress she could find in the area surrounding Shiz, no less, so that wasn't an option), and so Glinda was forced to acquiesce, the side of Elphaba's thigh pressing against her own. Face flushing a deep pink in the thankfully dim lighting, Glinda unsuccessfully fought down the heat that rose to her face and sent a tightening through her loins. How utterly embarrassing! Think of someone, anyone—no, the Unnamed God forbid she think of _Boq_, but maybe Avaric or Crope or Tibbett—just quash _that_ thought, poste-haste, Glinda chastened herself. But it became apparent to Glinda immediately that it had been the wrong course of action to take, because the scene that unfolded in her mind was not one of handsome Avaric pressed flush against her, hard and hot, but of Elphaba.

Glinda picked up the tankard and took a deep, unfeminine swig, the lukewarm beverage much less cooling then she had expected it to be, when Elphaba's free hand slid inconspicuously under the table and settled just above Glinda's knee. Glinda's stoic attempt at pretending that absolutely nothing out of the ordinary was going on was flagging, and as Elphaba squeezed gently, Glinda gave up attempting to fool herself and focused what remained of her will on maintaining her composure.

However, no one else had taken note of what transpired between the two, the entire group giddy and loose with drink as a salver of rich saffron cream, whipped to swirled peaks, was deposited at their table. Passing around delicate silver spoons, Boq was the first to dip into the cream, bring it to his mouth, and lick the stuff suggestively off the spoon. The others followed suit, murmuring, "To Ama Clutch," before indulging themselves, with Crope and Tibbett giggling over an innuendo that earned them spoonfuls of the cream lobbed at them.

Scooping up a tiny portion with the tip of her spoon, Elphaba brought it up to Glinda's mouth, offering it to the other girl as her free hand slid a fraction higher up Glinda's thigh. Eyes flicking up to Elphaba's and then back down to the spoon, Glinda complied, her lips parting ever-so-slightly as she took the spoon in her mouth, sucking the cream slowly off the cool, hard metal, eyes closed in obvious pleasure. The others were too drunk, too polite, or, perhaps, too turned on to say anything, and Glinda pressed sensuously against Elphaba's shoulder as the other girl dipped the spoon in the cream once again and chanced a lick for herself.

No one was surprised when both passed up offers the visit the Philosophy Club and left together.


End file.
